


Joyride

by balpal



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Drunk!Ian, Fluff, M/M, Piggyback Ride, Post Season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2319032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balpal/pseuds/balpal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian's drunk and doesn't feel like walking. Mickey's forced to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joyride

**Author's Note:**

> First fic. Like, ever.  
> Actually, more like my first ever piece of work that's going to be read by someone who isn't family or an English teacher.
> 
> Bear with me. I tried.

“Mick, I’m so drunk,” Ian giggled, dragging slowly behind Mickey as he led him by the arm down the footpath.

“C’mon, we’ve only got like, a block more to go. Keep walking, you gigantic oaf.” Mickey tugged harder at his arm, pulling him further, Ian stumbling and swaying behind him. Ian slowed, tripping over his feet clumsily, leaning heavily against a fence as the world spun around him.

“No. I don’t want to walk anymore,” Ian cried, swaying from side to side, his back against the fence and his face slightly flushed green under the dim street lights. “I think I’ll just lie here for the night.” And with that he dropped, sitting in the snow that had steadily been collecting at the base of the brick fence throughout the evening.

“No, no, no. Fuck. No you don’t. You can’t sleep here tonight. It’s the fucking middle of winter. You’ll fucking freeze to death.” Mickey, still holding Ian’s arm firmly in his grip, yanked hard, trying to pull Ian back to his feet but only managing to spin him more onto his side.

“Frank never freezes to death,” Ian mumbled, his voice muffled from being buried deep in the folds of his thick jacket.

“Well, Frank’s a fucking idiot and I’m sure as hell that he’s survived much worse than sleeping in the fucking snow. And you’re not Frank, so don’t even try it.” Mickey gave Ian’s arm another sharp tug.

“I don’t want to walk anymore, though. I’m too tired and maybe slightly drunk,” Ian whined softly, snow littering his hair and jacket as he rolled onto his back to look up at Mickey.

“Yeah, definitely, ‘slightly drunk’. And I’m slightly gonna kick your ass if you don’t get off the fucking ground and out of the fucking snow,” Mickey scoffed through his teeth, running his free hand through his hair, glancing down the street as he gave Ian’s arm yet another tug. “C’mon. Get up.”

“No,” Ian whined, trying to pull his arm free from Mickey’s grip. He pulled and flailed for a few seconds, small grunts of effort escaping his lips as Mickey looked on amused. Ian stopped his struggling suddenly, locking eyes with Mickey, a small and hopeful smile breaking across his face. “Piggyback ride?”

Mickey stared at him, silent for a long while, Ian’s arm loose in his grip.

“Fuck no,” he scoffed, looking away from Ian as he contemplated whether to just leave him there and hope for the best. He really didn’t want him to fucking freeze. Sick Ian is worse than drunken Ian.

“Piggyback?” Ian asked again, hopeful.

“No.”

“Piggyback, please.” Ian blinked up at him slowly, the small smile blooming into a grin across his face. His green eyes sparkled in the light cast from the streetlamp.

“Fine,” Mickey sighed in defeat, finally letting go of Ian’s arm, flinging it towards his face, the back of Ian’s hand landing against his mouth.

Ian squealed, clapping his hands enthusiastically as he climbed quickly to his feet, suddenly not tired and very sober. He grabbed Mickey’s shoulders, spinning him around to face the way they were heading, lining him up in the perfect position. Taking a few steps backwards, Ian stopped, aligned himself and took a quick sprint towards Mickey’s back, using Mickey’s shoulders as leverage to push up onto his back, settling his long legs around Mickey’s hips.

Mickey grunted, stumbling forward a few steps under Ian’s momentum and the sudden weight, steadying quickly and hoisting Ian higher on his back, Ian’s arms clasped together around his neck, his legs clutching at his slim waist, his ass settling comfortably in the curve of Mickey’s lower back. Mickey gripped the back of Ian’s thighs tightly and resumed the trek back down the street.

“Thanks Mick,” Ian mumbled with a giggle, hooking his chin over Mickey’s shoulder, looking at his profile out of the corner of his eye. “You’re the best, dude. The bestest boyfriend.”

Mickey smiled, turning his head towards Ian’s face as he walked, his thumbs absently stroking up and down the inside of his thighs.

“Whatever, man. Just don’t fucking puke on the back of my neck or I’m letting you sleep in the dumpster for the night. I mean it.” Mickey turned a corner, the Gallagher house down the street, its window bright and alive.

“I won’t. I promise,” Ian said, leaning higher on Mickey, kissing the back of his head softly before hooking his chin over the opposite shoulder, slumping forward as Mickey continued the walk. Mickey laughed softly as Ian wrapped himself tighter around him, his long limbs hugging him in a warm embrace.

They finally reached the house, lights streaming out from the front windows and the shouting voices of the family inside audible from the out.

“Okay tough guy. We’re home. Off now so I can get you up the stairs.” Mickey poked at Ian’s leg, trying to push them both down his body to get Ian’s feet firmly back onto the ground. Ian didn’t budge, wrapping his limbs tighter around Mickey’s body, his face buried in his shoulder.

“No,” he whined, “you promised you’ll carry me.” Mickey really didn’t like drunk Ian. He’s so fucking annoying when he’s drunk.

“How do you expect me to get up the fucking stairs with you on my back, asshole?”

“You’ll be fine. I believe in you!” Ian giggled into Mickey’s shoulder again, his legs swinging back and forth to urge Mickey forward onto the steps.

“I hate you so much sometimes,” Mickey said with a small smile, taking the first step, making his ascent slowly while gripping the handrail tightly like his life depended on it, it being the only thing keeping both him and Ian from toppling back down the stairs.

“No, you don’t. You love me,” Ian slurred drunkenly, pressing his lips to the back of Mickey’s ear as they finally reached the top. Mickey smiled, pushing back into Ian’s touch as he pushed open the front door, stumbling into the warmth of the Gallagher house.

The house was abuzz with energy, Debbie chasing Liam around the couch, both with toys cars. Fiona and V sat on the couch, each with one of the twins in their arms, watching on as Carl and Lip argued in front of the TV over which movie they should watch for the night, yelling over each other as they tried to argue their cases. From the kitchen came Kev, beer and popcorn in hand, yelling his opinions about the movies to Lip and Carl as he went.  

Everyone froze as the pair crashed through the door, turning to face them as Ian cackled at Mickey’s shoulder, burying his face into it.

“What’s going on, fellas,” Kev asked with a smirk, recovering first as he handed out the beers and giving the popcorn to Debbie as he passed, Liam quickly plunging his hand into the food in delight, taking a large mouthful as he pulled himself up next to Fiona on the couch.

“Mickey’s giving me a piggyback ride ‘cause he loves me and doesn’t want me to be Frank and sleep in the snow.” Ian said airily, kissing the side of Mickey’s neck and nibbled slightly at the skin, sending a shiver down Mickey’s spine as he smiled softly up at him.

“We can see that,” Fiona laughed, watching as Ian swung his long, dangling legs around, toes almost brushing the floor. She took in Mickey’s soft, adoring smile as he blushed, staring down at the floor, trying to avoid everyone’s inquiring stares. “Anyway, no one wants to be Frank. I don’t think Frank even wants to be Frank.”

“Join us?” Debbie asked, moving onto the floor to make room on the armchair for the pair to sit.

“Totally.” Ian said, flailing his limbs wildly to get Mickey to move toward the chair.

“No,” Mickey replied firmly, brushing his nose against Ian’s cheek as he turned to face him. Ian giggled, turning his face to give Mickey a quick peck on the tip of his nose before burying his mouth back into his shoulder once again. Mickey blushed deeply, bright red splotches blooming across his cheeks as he turned back to address the rest of the room. “No, sorry. He’s fucking smashed. I’m just going to take the big guy upstairs so that he can sleep. Why the fuck does your house have so many stairs, anyway? Fuck.”

Mickey turned towards the stairs, Ian’s legs swinging back and forth as he climbed. With a grin, Mickey ran the last few steps, Ian giggling wildly as they went, disappearing around the corner at the top of the stairs.

“Oh my God,” Lip laughed, holding the top of his drink against his lips as she watched the spot where the pair left at the top of the stairs, Ian’s erratic laughter still audible, Mickey’s soon joining, loud and joyous as he ran down the corridor.

“They’re adorable.” Fiona muttered from beside her, watching the space too, a dumbfounded look on her face.

V turned to Kev, slapping the back of her hand hard against his chest with a loud smack. “Why can’t you ever be cute like that, asshole,” she yelled, glaring at Kev as he scoffed in response.

“Bitch, please. I’m always cute.” Kev replied, kissing V’s head softly, pulling one of the twins onto his lap.

The room erupted with laughter, everyone quickly going back to their arguments and activities, a door overhead slamming shut with a barely noticed bang.


End file.
